


A Good Hyung

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, use of toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>yoongi is a good hyung. he takes good care of hoseok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Hyung

**Author's Note:**

> written in an hour and a half bc yoonseok feels bye i'm gonna throw myself off a cliff  
> also the toy used in this fic is real and can be found [here](https://www.docjohnson.com/inflatable-butt-plugs-latex-expando.html) if you're curious.

 

“Lemme take care of you, just this once.”

That was how it started. Hoseok had been nearly tearing his hair out with frustration and Yoongi, who had been sitting there and listening to him rant for almost a half hour, reached up to grab his wrists and, with more sincerity and care than Hoseok had _ever_ seen him express, asked if Hoseok would let Yoongi take care of him, just this once.

Hoseok still wasn't sure what... Happened. He remembered bursting into tears, pressing his hands over his face while Yoongi led him to the couch in the studio apartment, sat him down and slipped up behind him, skinny arms wrapping tight around his chest and _I've got you, Hoseokah, it's gonna be okay._ Somehow, from there... Hoseok had turned around with his red cheeks and snot-stuffed nose and teary, swollen eyes and Yoongi had kissed the inner edge of his eyebrow, close to the center of his face. He'd cupped Hoseok's face and wiped it with his sleeves and smiled when Hoseok gave a huge, embarrassing sniffle, eyes large and watery with gratitude, instead of distress. _Yah, you're gonna make hyung laugh, making that face._

Hoseok had laughed, a wet, gross sound and Yoongi had smiled back and they'd kissed.

They'd kissed.

Yoongi had cupped his small hands around the back of Hoseok's head and drawn him in slow, slow enough that if Hoseok had wanted to escape he could have, but he didn't want to. He didn't, and Yoongi's lips had tasted like cigarettes and cinnamon gum. His breath was hard when they parted, his little fingers curled in Hoseok's hair while Hoseok held desperately to his shoulders.

_Lemme take care of you, Hoseokah._

Hoseok knew, now, that was as close as Yoongi could get to saying, _I want to take care of you all the time, I want to be with you, please be with me._ It had taken him a long time—too long—to figure it out. Jimin had to be the one to tell him, clapping him upside the head after practice, where he'd spent the last fifteen minutes wondering whether or not he should go to Yoongi's place or just go home.

_You're dating him, aren't you? Don't you want to spend time with your boyfriend?_

_We're not dating, though._

_Are you sure about that?_

The more Hoseok looked at it, the more inevitable it seemed. He and Yoongi had always gravitated towards one another, equal and opposing forces. Yoongi was serious, bordering on stern; he had his funny moments, but they weren't his usual behavior at all. He had a small, unamused mouth and sharp, narrow eyes. It seemed funny to Hoseok that almost no one else knew how wide Yoongi's smile could get, how gummy, how his laugh came up out of his chest and got caught up in his throat so much it choked him, sometimes. It seemed ridiculous that no one else knew how gentle Yoongi's hands could be, how soft his breath on Hoseok's neck.

 _More for me,_ Hoseok thought to himself, as he slid the key into the lock and let himself into the studio. Yoongi was, as he'd expected, laying on his back on his bed—a futon, permanently unfolded and covered with a thick mattress pad. He was only wearing his boxers, and his skin was dewy, shining with sweat in the warm space. He had no sense of heat control, Yoongi. Hoseok sighed and went to turn off the heater, open the windows that lined the opposite end of the studio. Yoongi made an unattractive whining sound and turned over onto his belly.

“Yah,” he complained. “Hyung was sleeping.”

“Who's hyung? This sleepy child?” Hoseok reached to ruffle Yoongi's hair and laughed when Yoongi screeched in protest, grabbing at his shoulders to drag him down onto the bed.

“Insubordination, that's what this is, fucking _mutiny._ How dare you not call me hyung, you brat.”

“Yoongiyah~” Hoseok chirped, and snickered when Yoongi glared down at him, though no glare could hide his blush. “Aish, this hyung is cute. How was your day, huh? Did you sleep for all of it?”

“No,” Yoongi replied, pouting in a very unhappy way until Hoseok kissed his bottom lip and he brightened immediately. “No, I was at work all day, I just got home an hour ago. Took a shower n'laid down and fell asleep, clearly.”

“How was work?” he asked, any excuse not to talk about himself.

“Not bad,” Yoongi said. “Busy. How about you, how was your day?”

“I asked first.”

Hoseok loved this. Loved all of this, coming here to see Yoongi, catching him asleep, kissing his lips and tasting the remnants of toothpaste, kissing all over his cheeks and forehead until Yoongi was shoving him away in embarrassment. Listening to Yoongi talk about what he did at the studio until the words all blended together and he could just hear his voice. Just listening to his rasping mid-tone made everything just bleed out of him, all of the tension and irritation left over from what had honestly been a fucking stressful day.

“...and said he didn't want to... Hoseokah. Are you asleep?”

“Mm-mm,” Hoseok said, sitting up a bit to smile down at his lover. “M'listening.”

“Sure you are,” Yoongi arched one blonde eyebrow and Hoseok kissed it.

“I was! But. I'm more interested in getting you out of your clothes—”

“What clothes,”

“—and having my wicked way with you.”

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and Hoseok found himself on his back with a gasp, staring up at Yoongi, who was squinting down at him in a very suspicious manner. “What happened today?”

“What makes you think something happened,” Hoseok asked, cocking his head to one side.

“Yah, Jung Hoseok. What happened?”

It took all of fifteen seconds before Hoseok melted against the bed and closed his eyes. “One of the parents came in,” he said. “She'd... heard about me. And Jimin, from... I don't know, her kid, or some other kids parents. She yelled at us for a while. Pulled her kid out of the program, made a huge fucking scene in front of the rest of the students.” Hoseok bit into his lip and felt his eyes starting to burn. Yoongi didn't have to ask _why_ she'd been yelling, or what she'd been saying. He knew. He knew like he knew every time it happened, some bigot decided a pair of fags couldn't teach their children anything about dance and pulled a kid out of class. But it hurt every time like it had the first time, when Hoseok felt Yoongi's lips press to the corner of his eyebrow as he whispered, _lemme take care of you, just this once._

Just this once, had turned into a lot more often, but Hoseok wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry as Yoongi climbed up on top of him and kissed his face, traced his fingers down Hoseok's arms to hold his hands. He settled his body between Hoseok's legs, pressed bare to clothed chest. “Babe,” he murmured, kissing Hoseok's lips. “Babe, there are some shitty people in this world. M'sorry one of 'em got you today.”

“Me too,” Hoseok whispered, hating himself a little for crying. He should be able to handle it, he thought. He'd been hearing it once every couple of months for two years now. But it hurt, it hurt and Yoongi kissed his face, let go of his hands to bracket his arms on either side of Hoseok's head.

“Lemme take care of you, babe,” Yoongi whispered, and Hoseok nodded, choke-coughing against his own upper arm as Yoongi sat up. He pulled Hoseok up with him, carefully tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He reached to pull his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, wiggled out of his own underclothes and sat there between Hoseok's splayed legs, cupped his jaw and kissed him sweetly. For a long few minutes it was just the kiss, the kiss and the two of them on the sheets, and when Yoongi pulled away Hoseok was panting, eyes half-closed. His shoulders were relaxed, and Yoongi pushed him down onto the bed, smiling. “Bet you're still sore, huh?”

“Mmm,” Hoseok whined a little. He didn't want to be sore. But the two of them had been a little _too_ vigorous the day before and Hoseok, in his rush to prepare, had hurt himself. “Don't care,” he fussed.

“I do,” Yoongi replied. “You tear it, might get infected. No sex for you.”

“ _Hyung,_ ” Hoseok complained loudly, yelping when Yoongi slapped his bare thigh.

“I said no sex, not, I'm gonna leave you here half-hard and alone. Calm down. Hyung will take care of you. Don't I always?”

“Yes,” Hoseok said, though he was still pouting.

“Don't make that face. Turn over, on your belly.” Hoseok did as he was told, tucking his arms under his chest and crossing his legs at the ankles. He knew what Yoongi had planned, it was the same thing they did every time they couldn't have actual sex because Hoseok hadn't stretched himself enough the day before and Yoongi's (substantial) girth had torn him open. No matter how little, Yoongi wouldn't fuck him if he was still in any pain at all. “Aah, the bruises on your hips, Hoseokah. I almost feel bad.”

“I don't,” Hoseok said, huffing a bit. “I like them. I'd wear my pants low so everyone could see them if I thought I'd get away with it.”

“Mmm,” Yoongi hummed, and Hoseok felt slippery fingers rubbing against his hole, shivered hard. “You want the regular one or the special one?”

“Special one,” he said, sighing as Yoongi eased one finger into him, thin and long. “If I can't have your dick I want something big.”

“Size queen,” Yoongi accused, and Hoseok laughed.

“M'dating you, aren't I?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Hold on, can you reach it?” Hoseok grumbled but stretched out one arm for the nightstand and pulled out the metal lunch box that held their toys, each in it's own satin bag. He pushed it to Yoongi, heard the top flip open. He wiggled when it took too long for Yoongi to give him the toy, reaching back to hold his cheeks, pulling them open.

“Hyung,” he complained, and Yoongi smacked his hip.

“Impatient,” he chided, but the tip of the plug rubbed against him, slippery with lube and after a second it started vibrating. Hoseok squirmed, burying his face into the pillow under his head as Yoongi pushed it forward, pulled it back, fucked him with it until Hoseok gasped and cussed and he finally let it push all the way in, settling nicely, pressed in snug. Hoseok groaned, wiggling and rutting his hips against the bed.

“Fuck,” he breathed, choking when Yoongi turned up the intensity of the vibration. “ _Fuck,_ hyung!”

“What,” Yoongi asked, almost conversational, the asshole. Hoseok groaned as Yoongi grabbed him by the hips and dragged him up onto his knees. “Open your thighs for a sec.” He did as he was told, getting up onto his elbows and dropping his head when Yoongi's hand rubbed lube against his thighs, urging him to press his legs back together.

“Hyung,” Hoseok said, but Yoongi shushed him, pressed a kiss to his back and got up close behind him, pushing him back down onto his shoulders and grabbing for a pillow.

“Why are you so fucking tall,” he complained, rolling it up and pushing it under Hoseok's hips, forcing his weight down and forward. “Ah, better.” He straddled over Hoseok's knees and rubbed his dick against the wet skin of his thighs and Hoseok bared his teeth.

“God, would you just _fuck me_ alrea— _hyung—_ ”

Yoongi had slammed his hips forward and at the same time, squeezed down on the bulb attached to the plug—the one that forced air into it, inflated it. Hoseok didn't have to look to know he was grinning. “What was that, Hoseokah,” he asked, pulling his hips back and pushing forward, releasing the air in the plug and pulling out. “Did you want to ask me something?”

“Fuck, please, make it bigger, hyung,” Hoseok panted, pressing his face to the pillow and groaning when Yoongi found a steady rhythm and inflated and deflated the toy by one pump with every push in, pull out. “Yoongi,” he groaned, fingers fisting in the blankets. Yoongi's belly was hitting the base of the plug with every thrust, and he just needed _more._ “Thought you were gonna take care of me, god, just.”

“Okay babe,” Yoongi murmured, bracing his hand on the bed, angling his weight and thrusting fast and shallow, pumping the plug with every thrust until Hoseok whined, shook his head.

“Too, too much, hyu—oh god don't, don't stop no—”

“Slut,” Yoongi teased, his cock hot and thick between Hoseok's legs, pressed together so hard it hurt as the toy pushed in and grew with every thrust. “How big do you want it?”

“So big,” Hoseok panted, feeling himself drooling a bit in the pillow and honestly not giving a single fuck. The bed was infinitely acquainted with their bodily fluids, saliva especially, with how Hoseok liked giving head. He moaned with every pump, eyes squeezed closed as his cock rocked into the pillow and Yoongi's hips snapped against his thighs. He tried to cock his ass up, felt the plug inflate to the point just before pain and gasped out a _stop,_ and Yoongi's hand dropped the bulb and his hands grabbed Hoseok's hips hard enough to lay new bruises over the ones he'd already left. His hips moved hard and fast and his lips traced over the sensitive skin between Hoseok's shoulderblades.

Hoseok lasted about as long as could be expected, which was not long; Yoongi's hands, his cock, the toy inside of him, the comfort of being able to come home and be given exactly what he needed—to be out of control and taken care of. He came between the pillowcase and his belly, grunting and tearing at the sheets with tight fists, trying to buck back against Yoongi, who tried to hold him down and fucked against his thighs until he came, digging a bite into Hoseok's back, kissing it as he came down from his high.

“Hyung,” Hoseok whined, the plug still inflated and huge and vibrating inside of him. “S'too much, please—”

“Workin' on it, babe,” Yoongi murmured, reaching to deflate the toy, leaving the vibration function on as he pulled back and out from between Hoseok's thighs. He pushed one cheek out of the way to ease it out, slowly. He rubbed his thumb over the raw skin and Hoseok whined.

“Would been better if it was your dick, hyung,” he complained.

“Next time,” Yoongi promised, bending to kiss the small of his back. “For now, come on. Up, lets go take a shower, we'll order something in. You wanna invite Jimin and Taehyung over? M'sure he's feeling shitty, too.”

“We gotta change your sheets before they get here,” Hoseok said, forcing himself up from the bed and stumbling a bit. Yoongi laughed as he caught him, holding his arm.

“Obviously,” he replied, glancing down at his bed and cocking an eyebrow. “You owe me a new pillowcase.”

“Look, if we'd just invest in that little support thing we wouldn't _have_ to get new pillows and pillowcases all the time.”

“It's the _principle_ of the thing, Jung Hoseok.”

“You bought me an inflatable butt plug, Min Yoongi, I don't think we get to talk about _principles_ of things, thank you very much.”

“Yah! You're sassing me too much, Hoseok! Besides, it was _your_ idea, you're the size queen here—”

“Aah,” Hoseok reached to cup Yoongi's pouting face in his hands, kissing him all over. “I'll stop. Only because you took so much good care of me. You're such a good hyung~”

“Shut up,” Yoongi blushed, and Hoseok smiled. He didn't feel... Nothing had been made magically better, but he was infinitely more sure he could face the world tomorrow, than he had been a few hours ago.

“Ne~”

 


End file.
